Practical Solutions & Dispassionate Plans
by DalWriter
Summary: Here is one version of what should have happened in Harm's apartment in the last episode based on my limited understanding of the realities of military life. The story assumes Harm graduated from Annapolis in 1985. He would have 18 years in the Navy in 2005 when the show ended.


Between kisses Mac managed to lay it out there. "So, what are you proposing? That's not a Freudian slip."

For once in his life Harmon Rabb rose to the challenge that was Sarah Mackenzie. "I'm proposing. Let's get married," he promised.

"In London?"

"London works for me," he confirmed.

"Well San Diego works for me," Mac reminded him.

"This has always been the 500 pound gorilla in the room," Harm observed.

"For this to work one of us has to give up their Navy career," Mac finished his thought.

"I don't want to give up the Navy and you don't want to give up the Marine Corps," Harm reiterated what he thought was the obvious problem. "We could always wait until I retire," he offered, knowing that wasn't an attractive solution.

"What's another decade?" Mac joked.

Harm slumped in defeat but didn't take move his hands from the tops of Mac's thighs. He thought about fate and how it brought them together. He wondered if fate could keep them together. Would be flipping a coin to see who resigned actually work? He'd had crazier ideas.

Before Harm could offer his suggestion, Mac beat him to it. "Who said I don't want to give up the Marines?"

"I couldn't ask you to do that," Harm responded aghast.

"You didn't ask. I offered," Mac pointed out, mirth dancing in her eyes.

"You can't. We're so close. It's everything you worked for. I won't let you. I'll quit. I gave up the Navy once for the promise of you. I'll be easy to do again if I actually know I get you this time." He leaned in to seal that pledge with a deep kiss.

Kissing Harm was a dream come true. The reality was so much better than the fantasy and the few relatively chaste kisses they'd shared over the years. Mac let the make out session go on a bit longer - 2 minutes and 30 seconds give or take a few seconds because the fire this man was sending through her body was throwing off her internal chronometer just a bit, but she's never tell him that. Eventually she stopped him to catch her breath and correct his presumption. "I'm not gonna let you retire before you get your 20, Flyboy," Mac chastised.

"Well I'm not gonna let you do it either, Marine," Harm vowed.

Mac grinned. "Your calculations are off. I already have my 20 and more. I can retire right now with a pension, with health care benefits and with all the perks that come from a full career in the United States military."

Harm looked at her like she was daft. A frustrated scowl crossed his face. "We're the same age and the same rank. If I don't have my 20, how can you?"

"You forget. I _enlisted_ in the Marines. I came in as a private when I was 18 and went to college while I was already serving on active duty. My 4 years of college before I went to OSC count toward my 20. Your 4 years at the Academy don't. I've got 22 years in and can retire fully vested. Plus, you owed the Navy 4 years for Annapolis and 10 more for flight school. You still have time to go."

Harm leaned back and really looked at her. He searched her face to assure himself that he heard right and that as always, she had the resolution to their problem. Leave it to her to come up with the dispassionate plan. Still, he wasn't ready to let her make this noble sacrifice for him, for them. "You could be the JAG someday," he promised.

Mac smiled, grateful for his faith in her, however unrealistic. Shaking her head, she disavowed him of that sentimental notion. "Even though I have always been the better lawyer . . . " a statement which earned her a deep frown and sarcastic eyeroll from her disagreeing partner, "You're the one with the pedigree. They are not going to make a female Marine mustang who got her undergraduate degree through a distance learning program who has been tried for murder be the Judge Advocate General of the United States Navy."

Harm hated when Mac minimized her accomplishments. He was damned proud of her. With a little help from her Uncle Matt and the occasional AA meeting when she needed a refresher, Mac pulled herself up by the bootstraps. Most people would not have the fortitude to do what she did – to get sober, to make a career for herself, to become the kickass Marine lawyer he loved fighting against and the beautiful, caring woman in his arms.

"I've had my share of screw ups too," Harm admitted.

"That's an understatement," Mac ribbed him good-naturedly soothing the sting of her teasing words with a quick peck on his startled lips.

"Besides the credentials, you have the political juice on the Hill that I don't have. Bobbi Latham will push you through and you are the SecNav's Golden Boy. You will also have people pushing for you behind the scenes: Kershaw; Admiral Boone; the lobbyists on your stepfather's payroll and probably countless more flag officers you don't even realize are in your corner," Mac encouraged him.

"But you said that San Diego worked for you," Harm recapped. "Besides Bobbi Latham would step over my dead body before it was even cold for the chance to put a woman in as the JAG."

Mac chuckled at Harm's fairly apt description when it came to the Congresswoman's passion for women in the military but she didn't want to advance her career to fill a quota. "I love the Marine Corps. You know that. But I love you more," she assured him. "It's an easy choice." It was the honest truth. The most honest she'd been with herself and especially Harm since she realized the depths of her feelings for this Naval Aviator with the golden heart of a lion. He was no pretty boy in whites; he was a real deal honest American hero and she loved him, even more then she loved the corps. Nothing, not even the big chair, was worth losing him.

"But. . . " Harm wasn't letting this go. She said San Diego worked for her.

He couldn't bear the thought of her giving up her career in the heat of the moment out of fear of change and resenting him for it later. The Devil Dog in front of him was no housewife.

"You should know by now that I never negotiate from a position of weakness," Mac quipped. "I wanted to see what you were offering."

Harm grinned. His Marine was one shrewd lady. "I guess you liked my terms – a life sentence," Harm joked.

"As long as it's hard time," Mac couldn't resist another not Freudian slip.

Harm stood and grabbed Mac lifting her off the stool as he kissed her. Sensing what he wanted. She locked her legs around his hips and pulled herself up his body with the arms she'd wound around his neck and he reached under her thighs to better support her as he carried her to his bed. "I'll show you a hard time!"

It didn't take them long to divest each other of their clothes. A few of the buttons on Harm's shirt didn't survived the ordeal but the pair was far too interested in getting naked to care.

Having finally become one, with their passion spent, the sweaty partners lay back on Harm's bed. Mac was tucked into Harm's side even though they were both supine, trying to catch their breath. "If I say 'wow' will it go to your head?" Mac teased.

"Right back 'atcha, babe," Harm praised. "I don't know about you but that was even better than I ever imagined."

Intrigued Mac perked up at the confession. Propping herself on elbow she turned toward her new lover and sought confirmation. "You fantasized about me, about us?"

Knowing he was busted Harm was willing to fess up. "Of course I did. You are smokin' hot, Marine. Every time I saw you in a bikini . . .damn." He praised. "When we would attend embassy parties and balls. Hell every time you wore a tight pair of jeans or a low cut top. You know how bad I wanted to jump into that bubble bath with you? At least once a day I wanted to bend you over a desk, counsel table, the counter in the break room. . ."

Mac was tracing random patterns across Harm's chest, running her hand through the soft hair covering his muscles, subconsciously making up for all the time he was hands off. "We could have saved so much time. . . " she signed wistfully.

"C'mon you never thought about it?" Harm challenged.

"A lady's gotta have some secrets," Mac demurred. "I will say I have had some naughty thoughts about that shower of yours. Up and at 'em. We have to get things in motion."

"Motion?" Harm parroted not understanding why Mac was talking about getting up. He was hoping for a second wind and round two.

"Motion," Mac repeated more firmly. "We have to tell people – Bud & Harriet, your mother, Mattie, Chloe. . . not to mention Creswell to cancel my orders. There are steps to take now that we know what we're doing."

Harm lay there somewhat dumbfounded. This was all surreal. Being with Mac was a dream – fantasy – come to life but everything was moving at lightning speed. He felt like he didn't have time to catch his breath. Where were the fast reflexes that served him so well at Mach 1?

Rising from the bed, Mac took a few steps toward the glass block wall that made up Harm's bathroom. She held her hand out for him to join her. "Seriously. You. Me. Naked. Shower. Now!" this might be the last time she could ever make some of those naughty fantasies of hers come true. She wasn't going to miss out on shower sex in there were her sexy man.

Knowing she was right, Harm rose from the bed. "Who am I to deprive my fiancé of a shower and my services as her personal back washer." Winking and wiggling his hands at her, Harm added lecherously, "As long as I get to wash the front too."

Even with the flirting, Harm's statement stopped Mac cold. She blinked, caught her breath and swallowed before reverently repeating, "Fiancé."

Harm was awed by that reality too but surprisingly more self-assured about the whole idea. Wrapping his arm around her for support, he placed a chaste kiss on the tip of her nose. "You did agree to marry me before . . . ah . . .we ah . . got carried away. So fiancé."

"I did agree to that, didn't I? I still can't believe you actually asked," Mac explained. When he let go, he really did let go.

Harm was growing concerned. Something about Mac seemed off. He was willing to test that theory. "What time is it?"

Mac turned her head to look for a clock, but it had already been packed. Torn between pride and concern, Harm gazed pointedly at Mac for signs of real trouble. Knowing she'd been busted, Mac replied, "it's a little after eight."

Harmed checked his watch and confirmed "It's ten after but seriously are you OK?" Genuine concern was evident in his voice and written all over his face.

Swallowing her pride Mac dismissed his concerns, "My clock is just a bit off."

"What happened to the woman who could tell time even after crossing the international dateline and asking me if I wanted local, Eastern standard or Zulu? Has this ever happened before?"

"My brain may have short circuited a bit," Mac confessed. She wasn't about to tell him that never happened before. His ego was big enough and getting larger by the minute. Although if pressed, she would have to concede that he had every right to be proud of his skills as a lover. Remembering that this first encounter had been more of a hot, hard, heavy and hurried Mac smiled at the thought of lazy weekends spent together in bed learning every inch of each other. She couldn't wait.

"I did that!" Harm bragged. "But seriously, are you alright? I thought only Daylight Savings through you off."

"Just get in the shower," she ordered him.

Once under the hot spray despite the time pressures, the new couple took some time to savor each other and make some lasting memories in the glass enclosure. Both were beginning to realize that the honeymoon phase of their newfound intimacy was just warming up. After nine years of foreplay they had a lot of sexual tension to release and boy were they having fun.

As she dried off, Mac kept one arm extended playfully trying to maintain some distance between her and Harm. It wasn't easy because his reach was longer. "Cut it out. I'm gonna head home and put on something festive. You stay here and get dressed. Then we will meet at McMurphy's to tell everyone. I'll call Bud and Harriet. You call Stugius and Jen. We can call Mattie and Chloe in the morning on the way to Andrews."

"That's right," Harm agreed. "We gotta get you a seat on that flight."

"Not gonna happen," Mac rained on his parade. "I can't go with you tomorrow."

"But we're getting married," Harm grumbled.

"Yeah but not tonight. I have to officially resign. I've got about 45 days of terminal leave. I have to get my orders to San Diego cancelled. I have to figure out what to do with all my stuff. I have to find some place to live in London. I gotta get myself a new job," Mac ticked off how much work there was to be done.

"We'll just live together," Harm stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Mac smiled beneficently at the naive man standing before her in a towel as she pulled her shirt over her head and zipped up her jeans. Looking around for her shoes, Mac asked, "Where were you planning to live initially?"

"Base housing."

"Right. I can't live on base housing until we're married," Mac pointed out. She would be a civilian retiree shortly. Until they were married, she could not live on base. She would not even be able to come and go as she pleased because she would no longer have an official reason to be there until she formally became his dependent. She'd need an appointment and would have to go through civilian check points each time she entered the secure area.

That reality threw some cold water on Harm. "Well then a short engagement it will be! Hey, do you think we could get Chaplin Turner to marry us tonight? Sturgis could probably talk him into it."

Shaking her head at his eagerness, Mac declined. "We're not getting married tonight. We don't a license. The D.C. Clerk's office closed hours ago. You're gonna go to London. I'm gonna stay here and wrap things up and try to find myself a job in England. Once I get there, we'll figure it out. Besides I'm not about to get lynched by your mother, Chloe and Mattie because they missed our wedding."

Harm acquiesced. Mac was right but he hadn't thought about any of this. As usual she was miles ahead of him. "Do you want something simple or the full blown military wedding?"

"We have plenty of time to talk about that. Get that cute six of yours in gear Flyboy. I'll meet you at McMurphy's at 2200."

"Yes ma'am," Harm responded dutifully. It was beginning to realize that Mac was always going to outrank him in this marriage but that was just fine with him.


End file.
